


You Can Yell, But Not Too Loud

by cockedtail



Series: Growing Pains [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Yuri struggles a lot but he's gonna be just fine, learning how to grow up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:31:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cockedtail/pseuds/cockedtail
Summary: The pressures of being on top of the world tend to be overwhelming when Yuri's body decides not to cooperate with him, distractions are bombarding him from every direction, and his heart chooses emotions over rationality.





	You Can Yell, But Not Too Loud

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! okay so this is going to be split into 2 parts. i will be posting part 2 hopefully within the next few days. i hope y'all enjoy it.  
> this was beta'd by 
> 
> pensversusswords
> 
> america_chavez
> 
> i thank you guys SOOO MUCH for all your help on this. means a LOT to me.

After failing to land his triple toe loop for the sixth time, Yuri let out a yell of frustration, pounding his fist hard on the ice, and cursing under his breath. He had never felt such intense frustration in his entire life; he was a Grand Prix Final gold medallist and he won silver at World’s. He knew why he had gotten silver instead of gold—oh he knew _exactly_ why.

His body had started to change a few weeks before World’s and it was _fast_. Yuri’s center of gravity was thrown off and he fucked up, _really_ fucked up, a landing in his free skate. He had worked so hard his entire life and even through all of the struggles and turmoil he had faced before, this change was by far the _worst._ The moment he noticed he grew one centimetre, he felt the worst sense of dread fall over him. By the time his sixteenth birthday rolled around, his height had increased by yet another centimetre, leaving him at 165 cm. _Two_ full centimetres taller than he had been at the Grand Prix Final. He had wanted to scream at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, but Lilia and Yakov were both outside in the living room, so he restrained himself from doing so.

After World’s is when everything got worse. The growth spurt was terrible when it officially hit. Absolutely fucking horrible. He didn’t think it was going to hurt, but it _hurt_ . Yuri didn’t know that his fucking bones would hurt during growth spurts, leaving his body sore and aching. He ached so much that he was beginning to have trouble during practice, making him angrier than he thought possible. Yuri was suddenly getting hungrier, too, and he hadn’t noticed _that_ until he realized how much more he was eating and that was definitely not normal. Then, to make matters worse, he had to buy a shit ton of new clothes and shoes because hardly any of his old clothes fit anymore. He mourned over the loss of the tiger shirt he had bought the first time he arrived in Hasetsu.

The only good thing about going on a major shopping spree was the fact that Otabek was there with him. Otabek offered to go shopping with him on his trip to Saint Petersburg, and Yuri had enthusiastically took him up on it. As it turned out, shopping could actually be fun if you went with a good friend and not melodramatic fashionista shitheads like Viktor and Chris. Whenever he had been forced to shop with the most fucking annoying duo to ever exist, his lifespan shortened by two hours as he listened to the ‘professional’ skaters giggle and take multiple pictures of outfits Yuri would rather die before wearing out.

Yuri bought clothes that were two sizes bigger than he actually was because he knew he would grow into them, and he _did_. Yuri was glad that they fit, but he was also angry because he knew that he could eventually grow the clothing he had just bought, too. When he bought new shoes, he didn’t even bother buying more than two pairs of shoes. He bought a pair of black high top sneakers and then a pair of fitness sneakers. He didn’t bother buying too many articles of clothing or pairs of shoes because he knew he’d grow out of them sooner or later and despite popular belief, he didn’t really like spending much on those types of things anyway.

Yuri was not used to being _wide_ . Well, okay, he wasn’t that bad, but his shoulders had broadened and he was kind of fucked up about it. Yuri was very much used to his smaller body; he was actually beautiful and graceful and everyone loved it. Now, he was just… stiff and gawky. When he spoke to Otabek about it, he had said that is _really_ wasn’t bad. He still looked like himself and everything was going to be okay. Hearing it in Otabek’s sincere and caring voice he had _almost_ believed it.

At least Yuri still had nice hair that was only getting longer. He at _least_ had that.

At practice one day, Yuri had been infuriated with himself and when he was taking off his skates, he grumbled, “I can’t even fucking look pretty and graceful. I look like a fucking stick bug.”

Yuuri had chuckled. He smiled one of his fucking stupid sincere smiles. “Yurio,” he said. “You’re still pretty and graceful.”

That made Yuri’s blood boil.

Yuri was trying his damn best to fight through the changes, facing on the new difficulties with a strong fierceness he had never used before. He had to work twice as hard as he did before. He was falling from simple jumps he had been nailing for years at a frequency that made Yuri hate his body with an intensity he had never felt in chest before.

His moods were worse. He felt generally _worse_ . He was angrier than usual and everyone at the rink had noticed. It was like all the weird emotions he was starting to feel, all these shitty distractions, were just combining and manifesting them into pure hot anger. It was stressing Yuri the fuck out. It was like he was irritated with absolutely everything _all the time_ . It made him uncomfortable and awkward, which also made him angry. There were dozens of things trying to distract him from _winning_. His body and circumstances were all working against him and he really felt like God was trying to fuck with him and it royally sucked.

Trying to keep his body in check and his emotions from destroying him was already like challenging fucking Goliath to a sword battle at dawn with no sword and Yuri honestly thought that it couldn’t get any worse. Of course, he was wrong. He was _so_ wrong. He was a fool, an absolute fucking _fool_.

The moment Otabek told Yuri that his coach was going to be retiring at the end of the upcoming season, that he was going to be moving to Saint Petersburg to start getting used to the city and transitioning from his current coach to having Yakov as his new coach, Yuri knew he was so fucked. Yuri considered shooting himself into space and dying in horrifyingly painful absolute zero because that would be better than this.

 _That_ , having Otabek in Saint Petersburg, was not okay. Not at all. That was beyond ‘not okay’.

When Otabek told him, Yuri immediately disconnected the Skype call and when Otabek texted with “????” Yuri just responded that his WiFi fucked up and couldn’t get it to connect, for some reason (truly a mystery). Otabek accepted it, saying it was fine and they could talk the next day.

Yuri did not talk to him the next day.

In fact, he did not talk to Otabek for the rest of that week.

Otabek had let it slide the first two days but as the week progressed and Yuri had yet to answer his texts or calls, he sent a text asking why he wasn’t answering and that “this shit is not okay.”

Yuri felt so bad that he apologized—actually apologized—and lied that he wasn’t feeling very well and he knew Otabek had a lot of packing to do, so he didn’t want to bother him. Well, it wasn’t a total lie if Yuri was not feeling well—he felt like a pile of sentient crap.

So, when Otabek moved to Saint Petersburg and Yuri started seeing him practically every single day at the rink, Yuri knew his world was eventually going to collapse.

Yuri already had dozens of distractions trying to fuck with him, but _this_ ? Otabek Altin? In Saint Petersburg? That wasn’t a distraction; that was the raw definition of a goddamn fucking _nightmare._

When Otabek was around, Yuri felt this weird excitement and happiness in his chest. When Otabek smiled, Yuri couldn’t help but smile back. When Otabek and Yuri went out to eat together, Yuri felt like there was nothing that could ruin his day.

Except, yeah, there were things that could totally ruin everything. There were completely new emotions he was feeling around Otabek. Mostly, they were an odd brand of nervousness, happiness, excitement, and Yuri’s breath would catch whenever Otabek did… _anything_.

He didn’t understand.

So, naturally, he was fucking furious.

Yuri was able to handle himself, though. He was able to contain himself enough to not destroy everything in his path.

But it was eventually going to boil over.

On a day off, Yuuri and Viktor asked Yuri if he would like to accompany them to a museum. “It’ll be fun, Yurio!” Viktor said with his huge dumbass smile. “It’s an art museum and I know you can appreciate some pretty art.”

“It’s been a long time since the three of us have hung out,” Yuuri added. “We can go out for lunch afterwards, too. It’ll be our treat.”

Yuri said yes, but only for the free food. It’s not like he wanted to spend time with Yuuri and Viktor because really all they did was act completely obsessed with each other. Seriously. Viktor could never keep his hands off his fiancé. Yuuri would chuckle and press a soft kiss to Viktor’s hand in return. They looked like the only people that really mattered in the world were each other and everything else was secondary. It made Yuri nauseous.

So, really, he was just in it for the free food.

When they were walking around the museum, Yuri was able to hide all hide all signs of enjoyment (even though he genuinely liked, even _loved_ , some of the paintings and sculptures). Yuuri and Viktor were walking about a metre and a half behind him the whole time, hand in hand. They would occasionally whisper things to each other, chuckling at each other’s comments. They even kissed once, and Yuri wanted to scream. They were so entranced with each other. Yuri just barely held back a loud gagging noise whenever they got too affectionate for his tolerance.

They approached a large classical painting that made Yuri’s jaw drop. The painting depicted Satan rising from Hell and battling with the ethereal archangels. The battle was bloody and intense. The angels fought the demons, and archangel Michael and Gabriel (Yuri had read from the painting description) were taking Satan head-on with furious passion, but Satan held back with his flaming pitchfork and a strength so overwhelming that it took _two_ archangels to fight him. The whole painting looked like it was on fire; the entirety was a mix of fury and glory, and yet it never actually shows a victor—just a still of an on going raging war. It looked _so_ fucking badass.

He shoved his phone at Viktor and said, “Take a picture, and make sure I look fucking awesome.” He posed next to the painting, shooting up peace signs.

“How many do you want?”

“Like, five,” Yuri said, trying out different poses.

Viktor took a few more photos and Yuuri even said. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

Yuri nodded and placed his hands on his hips, satisfied for now.

He turned back to the painting and continued to admire it. It felt kind of fucked up to think about, but he wanted to be some sort of combination of Satan and the archangels. Not in some “chaotic evil/lawful good” kind of mix, no, but more of a combination between really badass and really graceful. Satan’s pose was open and dominant; his chest puffing out and head held high like absolutely nothing in the universe could challenge him, topped off with a wicked smile on his face. The archangels, Michael and Gabriel, were not as pure as their angel followers. They both had expressions of anger and courage mixed into one. They held their swords high into the clouds, as if they were pulling their energy straight from the heavens (which they most likely were). Their white robes were tied together by golden rope around their waists as a striking contrast against the flaming bloodied background. Both the devil and archangels looked as if they were already triumphant in this battle, but neither of them had won. At least, not that Yuri knew of.

He wanted to have that confidence in his battles. He didn’t feel like an angel, but he sure as fuck also didn’t feel like a demon. He used to feel like if there were motherfucking ox charging towards him in blind red rage, Yuri would be able to sock it right in it’s damn jaw. Now he was stuck in some transition period that felt like perpetual agony and confusion, not knowing what the fuck he wanted.

When Yuri turned around again, Yuuri and Viktor were giggling and taking selfies with his phone. Yuri felt extreme annoyance rise up his chest. “Hey! You fuckers!” A few heads turned and this one particular glaring mother covered her child’s ears at the profanity.

Viktor and Yuuri immediately jumped and Viktor hid Yuri’s phone behind his back. “We weren’t doing anything,” he said in the most unconvincing voice Yuri had ever heard in his entire life.

Yuri came storming forward and put his hand out. “Give me back my fucking phone.” Viktor placed it in his hand and Yuri immediately shoved the phone into his pocket. “I fucking hate when you guys do that.”

“We’re just teasing, Yurio,” Yuuri said kindly but also guiltily.

“Not my name.” Yuri grumbled another curse under his breath and stomped away in a huff, making his way to the sculpture room. He knew that Yuuri and Viktor were chuckling at what had just happened. He tried to ignore it.

The sculpture room was large and had a high ceiling and great lighting, both natural and artificial. At the end of the room, there were high windows that showed the city outside, a pretty nice view of buildings and cloudless blue sky. It fit well with the sculptures.

One of Yuri’s favorite forms of art were sculptures (although he would never admit any of this shit out loud). When he was a child, he and his grandfather would go to museums together. His grandfather thought art was important and that Yuri should learn to appreciate it. Over time, Yuri did. Yuri learned to appreciate many forms of art because figure skating was both an art and a sport; there was a profound beauty in the sport, which is part of the reason he loved it. To Yuri, skating was his one true love; it was a way to show the world who he truly was and he could make every single person in the audience love what he was doing just as much as he did.

However, Yuri had been feeling trapped lately. For some time now, he had been feeling the need to break out from what everyone was telling him. When he was younger, he used to constantly complain about going to practice and challenge Yakov’s instructions. Even though he changed jump elements in his programs in the last season, he still followed everything that Yakov and Lilia told him to do. Even in the exhibition program, the time where the skaters get to perform a routine that’s free to show who they are, he was still just following Lilia’s instructions and it felt so empty to him.

After rebelling against them and performing “Welcome to the Madness”, he had never felt so _free_ in his entire life. His love for skating had come back to him and he flourished in a way that he never had before. He felt like himself on the ice. He had so much _fun_ he couldn’t even believe it. Yuri was finally able to show the world who he truly was and what he wanted from his skating. Even though Yakov and Lilia were furious with him for not telling them what he was going to do, he couldn’t give any fucks about what they were yelling about. He was so goddamn _happy_ he could hardly believe it. He was able to do something _he_ wanted to do. He took control of this one moment, this one brief moment of his life, and it was worth more than anything else in the entire world. It didn’t matter that he got in trouble. All that mattered was that he felt alive. He felt reborn.

(Yakov and Lilia eventually laid off him when they found out he was blowing up on the internet because of how much people loved it.)

Looking at the sculptures posing in their wonderful greatness was always something Yuri liked to see. He was always in awe with the work that the artists much have put into creating such masterpieces. Yuri shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to look as blasé as possible, but he didn’t think it was really working considering how long he was looking at each sculpture and analyzing the beautiful details as much as possible.

Yuri kept walking around the sculpture exhibition room--it was apparently some traveling exhibition that sort of special artist who’s super famous had all their stuff on display here and Yuri felt kind of bad that he didn’t bother looking at the artist details or even their name. He _could_ go back to the room entrance to find out, but he wasn’t going to because he was looking at a sculpture that made him…feel something.

The sculpture was of a young boy who was dressed in a loose robe. His head and upper body were facing down towards the ground, arms raised back towards the ceiling, and there was a large black sphere weighing down his back and neck. The colors contrasted starkly and it was obvious that this sphere on the boy’s back was a burden. The piece was called “A Weight Too Heavy” and Yuri wanted to look away, but for some reason he couldn’t. The expression on the boy was straining and his body was trying to stay standing as best as he could, but even with one leg forward and the other back, it seemed like there was no way he could even out the weight pushing him down.

Yuri felt like no one else was in the room. He kept staring at the sculpture with wide eyes and he tried to absorb every detail shown before him. The boy was too young to have such a large burden on him and the pain he felt was displayed plainly for all to see.

Yuri felt like that burden was on his back, too.

Yuri felt like the entire world was trying to weigh him down.

Yuri felt like he was drowning.

Yuri felt like all the forces of the unloving universe were beating down on him as much as possible.

He had a title to defend. He had a body that was changing and making it impossible for him to succeed as he once and that failure would last until this transition was done. He had to keep himself away from distractions. He had to show the entire world that he could still be the best skater to exist if he pushed himself harder than anyone else. He had to prove that he was worth their respect. He had to show everyone that he wasn’t some fucking child. He had to keep his emotions in check. He had to be the best. He had to be _the best_.

Finally closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, Yuri mumbled at the sculpture, “Me too, kid.” Yuri walked away from the sculpture and looked around the room, trying to find Viktor and Yuuri. When he couldn’t find them, he frowned.

Yuri walked out of the sculpture room and searched for them in the previous rooms. He eventually found them in a room displaying photography and they were both being ridiculously affectionate to each other. They were whispering things to each other and laughing, like they were in their own little world completely. It was fucking plain as day that they were sickeningly in love. Holding each other’s hands, standing so close their shoulders touched, not a centimetre between them, and smiling like this was the best day of their entire lives. Yuri thought back to Viktor-before-Yuuri and he was like a completely new person. Well, no, that wasn’t true; Viktor was still the idiot impulsive selfish airhead that he had always been, but softer and way happier. He was a _better_ person because of Yuuri.

It made Yuri sick. Absolutely _sick._

He felt annoyance and anger prickling under his skin. They’d abandoned him. They were the ones who invited him out and yet they went off on their own, not bothering to follow Yuri. It was like it didn’t matter if Yuri were there or not. They would be acting like this if he weren’t here at all.

He was jealous.

Viktor turned his head away from a painting they were looking at and waved at Yuri. “Little Yurio! Where did you go off to?”

Curling his hands into tight fists, he tried not to absolutely explode in fury.

 

* * *

 

After the museum, the three of them went off to a small restaurant to eat. On the walk there, Yuuri and Viktor were still holding hands and talking to each other as if Yuri weren’t there. They occasionally made some comment at Yuri and he only responded in bitten out sentences that never exceeded ten words. Yuri’s hands were still clenched into fists stuffed in his jacket pockets.

Yuri didn’t know why he even bothered thinking for a split second that maybe the experience in the restaurant was going to be any better than the museum. He felt absolutely fucking stupid for thinking so.

Both of them were still all over each other and that’s when Yuri officially understood the feeling of being a “third wheel”. He felt like he was an accessory to their date and Yuri wanted to set himself on fire and die just to escape this infuriating fuckery.

For a moment, they stopped focusing on each other and Yuuri turned to face Yuri and asked, “How does it feel to have Otabek training with us now?”

_Oh fuck._

Yuri’s fork had reached halfway into his mouth and he almost dropped it. His eyebrows furrowed and he said, “Why are you so damn interested?”

“Well, he’s your best friend. I’d think you’d be happy about him being around and, you know, not so far away in Almaty.”

Yuri put his fork down on his plate, crossed his arms, and leaned back into his chair. “It’s fine.”

Viktor smirked. “I was thinking it was more than fine considering how you look at him.”

Yuri’s felt his face burn. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean that you totally have a crush on him,” Viktor sing-songed. “It’s incredibly cute.”

Sputtering, Yuri said, “That’s not true! I don’t have a fucking crush on Otabek. We’re just good friends. Friends don’t date each other or do stupid shit like date.” Yuri furiously stabbed a piece of his vegetables and ate it, chewing angrily. “Besides, having a relationship would be a useless distraction. I have better things to do than think about stupid shit like _romance_. Fucking gross.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed knowingly, the smirk still plastered on his annoying face. “Seems like the little kitten is lying,” he teased. “It’s totally normal to have a crush. You’re at that age where you start to think about things like kissing and—“

“I swear to the fucking lord—if you don’t shut you mouth, Nikiforov, I’ll launch myself over this table and strangle you to death and even your fiancé won’t be able to save you.”

Viktor laughed, “Oh, please, Yurio. It’s obvious.”

Yuri felt his blush get stronger. “Not my name.” He pointed his fork at Viktor. “And you better shut the fuck up.”

“We’re only teasing, Yurio,” Yuuri said with a soft smile. Damn him.

“Not my damn name,” he reminded them in a biting tone. “Just…fucking drop it.”

Yuuri held his hands up in surrender, but it didn’t actually look like he meant it judging by the smirk on his face he was trying to cover up. “Fine, fine.”

Viktor cooed, “Our little Yurio is growing up, Yuuri!” Yuuri didn’t even bother hiding his chuckle.

“Shut up! Holy shit, just shut up!” Yuri snarled. He stabbed another piece of veggies with cruelty. “One of these days, I’m gonna kill you and the Katsudon, I swear to fucking God.”

Yuri knew his face was red, but not with just anger. It was with embarrassment. He felt so fucking patronized. He didn’t want to prodded about these things. They were talking to him like he was some fucking child. He couldn’t stand them treating him like that. They didn’t stop when he told them to stop. They don’t even have the fucking decency to call him by his name.

The rest of the meal passed with Viktor and Yuuri talking to each other about some random ass nonsense and then asking Yuri more personal questions that he, again, responded to harshly, telling them to stop. At one point, Yuri didn’t even bother anymore. He knew they were going to keep teasing him and try to include him in conversations that had nothing to do with him. They knew what they were doing. They thought that his words were just empty words, like always. Like he was just over exaggerating his annoyance.

He wasn’t a kid anymore.

Why did no one else think that?

When Yuri got home that night and walked into his room, he saw his gold medal hanging proudly on the far wall, right above his bed.

Yuri immediately took it off the wall and shoved it into his desk drawer.

He couldn’t look at it.

It made his neck feel heavy.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks passed and Yuri had grown another centimetre and a half since the last time he checked.

He was more tempted to punch the bathroom mirror now than ever before.

Just when he thought he’d gotten his center of gravity down, he lost it one again. It wasn’t as bad as before, like he wasn’t falling on his ass every time he tried to do a jump, but he was still falling about half the time. Yuri was so fucking done with having new bruises form all over his body and leaving the rink embarrassed because he, a gold medallist, couldn’t land his jumps.

The pot was going to boil over. He knew this already. He had seen it coming from a thousand kilometres away, and yet he couldn’t stop it when it happened.

It was during practice.

He kept fucking up and he was so exhausted but he knew he had to keep going. Yakov was yelling some bullshit to him. “What the hell was that? If you can’t get this simple sequence down this time, then you’re off the ice.”

Yuri gritted his teeth. “I’m fucking _trying_.”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Yakov shot back. “At this rate, you won’t even be able to get decent points from presentation because your technical elements are completely wrong. Wake up.”

“Yuri’s presentation is completely destroyed,” Lilia said from the other side of the rink barrier. “My grandmother has more passion and grace than you and she’s dead.”

Usually Yuri could take these comments. Usually, he could stand up again and try even harder, no matter how angry he was, but he couldn’t do it. He bit his lip so hard he felt it break skin.

“Oh, come now, Yakov,” Viktor said as he skated towards them, Yuuri in tow. “He’s not doing a horrible job.”

“It’s hard for him right now,” Yuuri added.

The pot boiled over.

“I don’t need either of you to fucking defend me,” Yuri growled with a fury so strong is physically hurt. “I don’t need anyone telling me fucking _anything_.”

Yakov scoffed. “Excuse me, boy?”

“I’m not a fucking child.”

“Then stop acting like one,” Lilia said.

Yuri stood up so fast that he felt like he was about to fall again. His hands were trembling, fists clenched tightly to the point where his knuckles were white. His breathing was heavy and he was seeing red. “I don’t need this shit. I don’t fucking need this shit.”

Yuuri came forward. “Yurio, calm down—“

“ _That’s not my fucking name!_ ” Yuri shouted. He knew that the other skaters in the rink had stopped to look at the scene unfolding, but Yuri couldn’t bring himself to care.

Viktor frowned and placed a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. He felt like he was going to explode. “You need to calm down—“

Yuri shoved his arm off and pointed at Viktor, sending him the most devastating glare he could ever muster. “Don’t you fucking touch me. Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down, Nikiforov. Don’t you fucking _dare_ pull that shit with me.”

Now Viktor looked angry. “Pull _what_ , exactly? You’re making a scene.”

Yuri came forward and poked Viktor in the chest _hard_. “You of all fucking people doesn’t have the fucking right to tell me what the hell I should and should not be doing. You have no right, you selfish son of a bitch.”

Yuuri gasped. “Yuri! Stop it!”

Viktor’s posture straightened, looking at Yuri in a way he had never seen before: pure anger. “What are you even talking about? How could you—“

“How could _I_ ? How could _you_ ?” Yuri straightened up, imitating his posture to challenge him. “You think I’m okay with what you did? You think I’m oh so _fine_ with the shit that you pulled a year ago? You think it just blew over like nothing had ever happened in the first place?” Yuri angrily jabbed a finger in Viktor’s direction. “You’re an impulsive selfish asshole that just up and _left_ the fucking country without telling _anyone,_ not even your own goddamn team—your fucking rinkmates—and you think it’s okay? You think you can just laugh off the fact that you broke a promise you made to a _child_ with a ‘whoops sorry I totally forgot; I’m just so forgetful haha’ bullshit? How do you think the rest of us felt? How do you think _I_ felt? And then,” Yuri scoffed, “and _then_ you give me a routine that you coach me for a week on and then, poof, never fucking again. You had made up your mind from the very fucking beginning—you were going to coach Yuuri and _not me_. It was so fucking obvious. I still can’t believe I fucking fell for it.” He let out a pained disbelieving dry laugh, one hand ranking through his hair.

Viktor’s anger seemed to have completed faded. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape, and a face of pure devastation. Yuuri stood beside him, equally speechless. “I…I just—“

Yakov shouted, “Yuri, get off the goddamn ice _now_.”

Yuri turned and spat, “I can’t stand this shit. I win a gold fucking medal and I’m still treated like a fucking child. I can’t add anything to my fucking routines and it feels like I’m a fucking broken puppet. I hate being on the fucking ice half of the time because I know that when I’m on here I’m fucking _trapped_ .” Yuri was trembling and his anger was turning into something more painful. He could barely hold back tears. “The one time I felt fucking _alive_ when I skated was when I was berated for fucking _weeks_ about it afterwards. I can’t do anything. I can’t fucking do _anything_. I don’t even get some fucking respect from other skaters and—“ His own body betrayed him, making his voice crack and a tear fall from his eye. He wiped it off furiously with the back of his hand. “You know what? Fuck it. I don’t—I can’t—“

Yuri skated to the rink exit and was intercepted by Otabek. Yuri internally cursed because, no, he couldn’t do this right now. Not Otabek.

“Yura, please,” he pleaded and _God_ Yuri had never heard that tone come out of his mouth before and it was breaking Yuri’s heart.

Yuri shook his head and stormed past him. He needed to leave as fast as possible. He couldn’t stand being there anymore. It felt like his entire fucking _world_ was collapsing.

After getting out of the rink, everything was a blur. People were calling out his name behind him but he couldn’t look back. He remembered putting on his skate guards, taking off his skates faster than he had ever done before, took off to the locker room, packed his things in his bag, put on his sweater as quickly as possible and not bothering to put on his coat despite the cold outside, and tried to run out of the building. Yuuri tried to get in front of Yuri to stop him, but Yuri only pushed through and left  the ice skating rink and made his way out into the cold night.

Yuri ran past the parking lot. He ran down the sidewalk. He had no idea where his legs were taking him so long as they could get as far away as possible.

By the time Yuri stopped running and realized where he was, he was on the bridge that arched over a river about a half kilometre away from the rink. Yuri dropped his bag next to him and he grabbed on to the railing. He tried to get his breath back, but it felt like the panting was only making it worse. His head was spinning and he felt like he was swaying. He gripped on to the railing tighter. He closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing. After a few minutes, he was no longer struggling for air.

Yuri looked out to the river, the full moon reflecting on the water brightly.

Yuri took in a deep breath and screamed.

Yuri let out everything he had inside to the river and the moon. He screamed to stop his burdens from weighing down on his entire body. He screamed at his failures. He screamed at his guilt over what he had just done to his friends. He screamed at himself for being in so much pain.

And even though he tried to scream to stop from crying, that didn’t exactly work.

When his breath ran out from the long frustrated scream into the dark, he fell to his knees and cried. The sobs wracked his body violently and Yuri couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried this hard. Everything hurt. His throat was sore from the cold air and screaming. His body was in pain because of the new bruises he got from practice.

Yuri had never felt such _stress_ in his entire life. Yuri let out a long shaky breath and rested his head on one of the metal bars of the bridge railing.

Just as he was starting to calm, he heard a familiar voice beside him say, “Yura.”

Yuri blinked up in surprise and saw Otabek standing there looking down at Yuri with concern. Yuri opened his mouth and then closed it, biting his lip. He didn’t know what to say other than, “How did you even find me?”

Otabek held up his phone and said, “Do you remember when I first moved here to Saint Petersburg?” When Yuri didn’t respond he continued, “You told me to turn on ‘find your friends’ so that if I ever got lost you could find me, or I could find you.” He put his phone away in his black coat pocket. “I found you.”

Yuri couldn’t help the dry incredulous laugh that escaped his lips. He rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh. “ _Why_ are you here?”

“Because I’m your friend.”

Yuri felt like he had just been shot through the heart with an arrow. “Even after all the shit I pulled just now?”

“Especially after all the shit you pulled just now.”

“What the fuck, Beka?”

Otabek sat down next to Yuri on the pavement and leaned against the railing. He looked at Yuri with calmness and understanding. “No one there had any idea what you were— _are_ —going through. Not even me.” He paused, maybe expecting Yuri to say something, but he didn’t. Just hearing those words made Yuri feel even more guilty. “No one knew because you didn’t say anything and you thought you could do this on your own, but you have people who actually care about you. _I_ care about you, and I’m here because what just happened freaked me the fuck out, Yura.”

Yuri tore his eyes away from Otabek, not being able to look at him. He tried to register the weight of his words and looked out past Otabek. There was no one on the bridge and the cars passing by on the street were sparse. Yuri barely registered what time it was, but it by no means early. It was probably late. No wonder he was so exhausted.

“Yura…” Otabek sighed. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Yuri hated that his voice cracked at the end.

“Anything.”

Yuri looked back at Otabek and, God, this is why he looked away in the first place. Anyone else would think that Otabek was only showing minimum care that people would give to their friends, but Yuri knew how to read him. This was so much more than that. Otabek nearly looked how Yuri felt. He didn’t know what to say to that.

Yuri cleared his throat. “What…what happened when I left?”

Otabek took in a breath. “Well, Viktor almost cried. Same with Yuuri, but they managed not to. They were mostly freaking out about it. They texted you and called you a lot, but I’m assuming you haven’t looked at your phone considering that I called and texted, too. Yakov and Lilia didn’t say much, but they looked bad. Viktor wanted to come with me to find you, but Yuuri told him it wasn’t a good time, so I told them I was going. I was already taking off my skates the second you got out the door, anyway.”

_Regret._

The words that Yuri spat at everyone were rushing back to him and he felt a sudden burst of nausea. How could he say that? How could he say _any_ of that to them? The pit in Yuri’s chest was growing larger as the guilt seeped in. “Oh my God…” Yuri groaned weakly as realization crept in. “I called Viktor a selfish son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I hurt Yuuri.”

“Yeah.”

“I fucking yelled at the two people who have been housing me for over a year.”

“Yeah.”

“I…I just…” Yuri held his head in his hands and took in deep breaths. “Why did I do that?”

“You’re hurting.”

Yuri scoffed. “So I hurt everyone around me? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Otabek scooted closer to him, shoulder touching shoulder. Yuri felt the smallest bit of comfort from the contact. “It happens. Sometimes it’s what people do. We hurt ourselves or others, and sometimes both.”

“Have _you_ ever done anything like that?”

Otabek hummed under his breath in thought. “Once,” he started. “I had a fight with my sister over something stupid—it’s not even worth talking about, but it was hurting us both. We had both been avoiding the subject for over two months and it got to the point where we couldn’t take it anymore. I came home from practice one day and our family had dinner together, which is rare. Our parents work, my sister is busy with school, and I’m busy with skating. I don’t remember how it started, but we were yelling at each other from across the table. She was furious and I was worse. We said terrible things to each other, things we had never even considered saying before. A lot of the fight is a blur at this point, but I’ll never forget what we said to each other in the end. When she shouted, ‘I wish you would just go back to Canada so I wouldn’t have to look at you’ I lost my mind. I hit my hand on the table, stood up, my chair fell, and I yelled, ‘I wish you’d just go live in Germany with your stupid fucking failure drunk boyfriend. A broken wreck deserves a disgusting wreck—perfect match’.”

Yuri’s eyes went wide. “Holy fucking shit, Beka.”

“She didn’t say anything to me after that. She just picked up her glass and threw the water on my face. She stood up crying and said sorry to my parents. She put on her coat, grabbed her purse, and left the house. I immediately regretted everything. I didn’t mean what I said, and neither did she. We both knew that.”

Yuri swallowed. “But you made up, right?”

“About a week after,” Otabek said. “I went to her apartment and we talked for three and a half hours. Tears were involved. We forgave each other, but it took me a long time to forgive myself.”

There was a cold air of silence that fell between them as Yuri processed what Otabek just shared with him.

“And you’re here because…?”

Otabek sighed exasperatedly. “Because I’m your friend and you feel like shit right now in more ways than one. You’re my friend, and I don’t like seeing you upset, so I want to help. Frankly, seeing you upset makes me upset. You know why? Because I’m your friend.”

Yuri groaned and looked away. “How many more times are you going to say that?”

“Until you get it.” Otabek placed a hand on Yuri’s knee and Yuri faced Otabek again, hoping that he wasn’t blushing from the contact. Wow, he _really_ needed to get a hold of this _crush_ thing that was going on. “Yuri, I have no idea what’s going on with you because you never said anything to anyone. If you aren’t comfortable talking with Yuuri and Viktor about your problems, then I’m here. I’m here now and not all the way in Kazakhstan, so really there shouldn’t be any excuse of you not being able to get a hold of me.” Otabek took a hold of Yuri’s hand and he tried to hold in his gasp, but he barely got it. “You’re my friend and I want to be there for you. I’m not saying _need_ —I’m saying _want_. I want to be here for you.” He smirked. “I don’t wanna be some sap, but seeing you like that kind of broke my heart.”

Yuri’s lip twitched up in a smile. “Only kind of?”

“A lot.” Otabek squeezed his hand and Yuri reciprocated.

Yuri smirked. “Aren’t you sweet?”

Otabek rolled his eyes. He let go of Yuri’s hand and stood up. He brushed off his pants and asked, “What do you want to do now? It’s late.”

“I’m tired.”

“I can take you home.”

Yuri immediately shook his head. He couldn’t go back to Lilia’s place. Fuck no. Absolutely not. “No. Hell no. Just…I don’t know.”

“You can stay at my place, then,” Otabek offered easily.

Yuri’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“You can stay at my place. Not a big deal.” Otabek shrugged. “You need a place to crash and I have a place to crash. My bed is comfortable and I have a shower and food.”

“Are you inviting me to get into bed with you, Altin?” Yuri teased.

Otabek rolled his eyes again, but this time with a small smile. “Don’t be an asshole. I’m sleeping on the couch.” He held out his hand.” Do you want to come or not?”

Yuri took his hand and Otabek helped him stand up. Yuri grabbed his duffle bag and swung it over his shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll go.”

 

* * *

 

Yuri had been to Otabek’s apartment before, but this felt like a much more intimate circumstance.

The other times Yuri had been at the apartment, they were when Otabek and Yuri would hang out and watch movies or play video games. They’d make food together (only good because Yuri knew how to cook and Otabek was kind of a mess). It also wasn’t as if Yuri hadn’t spent the night here. They had a movie marathon night and Otabek called it a “sleepover”, but Yuri laughed because it sounded so juvenile.

Yuri had a lot of fun that night.

But now the setting was completely changed. The atmosphere was much heavier than it had ever been.

“If you want to shower, you can do that. I have to throw some clothes into the laundry right now, so if you have stuff in your bag you wanna wash, I can do that.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose at Otabek. “You’re willing to do my dirty laundry?”

“If I’m already doing my own, I may as well offer.”

Yuri felt another blush coming on _goddammit_.

He fished out his dirty clothes and handed it to Otabek. Yuri still had a clean change of clothes in his bag that he would bring to the rink because he’d sometimes shower there.

“You can use my shower and while you’re doing that I can wash the clothes you’re wearing right now, too.”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Otabek took Yuri’s clothes and said, “You know where the bathroom is. The towels are in the cabinet under the sink. Leave your dirty clothes outside of the door and I’ll pick it up.”

Yuri gripped the strap of his duffle bag tighter, feeling an overwhelming amount of _whatever that warm emotion was_ , Yuri nodded. “Okay.”

Otabek nodded and walked away to the washing machine. Yuri walked past him into the bathroom and when he shut the door, he dropped his bag immediately and sighed. He had never freaked out being in Otabek’s apartment, but now he was.

His crush on Otabek had gotten worse and worse each day. It was like everything Otabek did tugged on Yuri’s heartstrings. The more time they spent together, the more Yuri’s desires wanted to fuck him over. Yuri was sure that Otabek didn’t even want to have a relationship right now. There was no way. He made it absolutely clear that their friendship meant a lot to him, and what if Yuri fucked that up by confessing to him? Otabek was his best friend, a really _really_ great friend, and Yuri had never had that before. Yuri had imagined Otabek rejecting him multiple times in different scenarios Yuri came up with where he actually confesses. It made his heart hurt.

There were so many ways that a confession could turn out. One of them was that Otabek breaks off their relationship completely, and that scenario scared Yuri out of his fucking mind. The second possibility is that Otabek accepts it, doesn’t reciprocate it, and everything is awkward between them after the fact. The third and least possible one is that Otabek reciprocates and…and then what? What would they do afterwards? Would they begin a romantic relationship?

The simple thought of being in a relationship with Otabek made Yuri uncharacteristically flustered and Yuri hated how these emotions really made him nervous in a way he had never been before. Yuri still thinks that a relationship would be a major distraction, something he definitely doesn’t need right now, but for some reason…he really wanted it. He really wanted to hold Otabek’s hand. He wanted to lean on him when they watched movies. He wanted to share intimate moments with him. He wanted to go to Yuuri and Viktor’s wedding and bring Otabek as his date. He wanted to go on _dates_ with Otabek, and the thought of dates just made him icked out before, but now he really wanted that. He wanted to go out for a nice dinner, go to the beach, travel with him—all sorts of sappy shit. Of course, he and Otabek already did some of this stuff, but it would be different if they were _together_ …like _boyfriends_.

_Ugh._

Yuri shook his head and turned on the shower, struggling for about a minute or so trying to figure out how the fucking thing worked. He hated showering in other people’s home because it was always such a challenge figuring out how to use the knobs and how exactly not to scald or freeze himself. When the shower was hot enough to be comfortable and not _on fucking fire_ , Yuri undressed, then folded the clothes into a small pile (he was trying to be respectful) and set it outside the bathroom door.

Yuri tried to be calm and enjoy the shower as much as he could. He let the hot water wash over him and relax his muscles. He tried to clear his mind, but it was a lot harder than he thought it would be. His mind kept replaying the words he had shouted at the rink and waves of shame continued to wash over him. He felt _regret_ so badly that he was sure the shower was going to drown him. Yuri didn’t feel like he was going to cry, but he certainly wanted the drain to drag him into the pipes and kill him.

Yuri focused on actually showering instead of wallowing in his own awful self-pity. When he spotted the shampoo and picked it up, he _almost_ laughed out loud. It was one of those really good shampoos that smelled like eucalyptus and Otabek had the conditioner to match. The body wash was also eucalyptus. For some reason, that made Yuri like Otabek even _more_. No wonder Otabek always smelled really nice.

After Yuri was clean and pretty satisfied, he felt only slightly better, maybe one one-hundredth of a sliver better, but better nonetheless. He dried himself off with the white towel and got himself dressed. He had some sweatpants and a large tiger t-shirt that was really comfortable to wear after practice. He took the brush out of his bag and looked at himself in the mirror, about to get all the knots out of his long hair. When Yuri saw himself, he suddenly felt self-conscious.

Yuri’s face was flushed from the hot shower and his wet hair was messy, but he didn’t look bad by any means. He actually thought he looked kind of…decent. Yuri’s face wasn’t ugly. He still looked like himself, but a little bit different. He noticed his jaw was getting sharper, but it was still a bit soft. His face still gave off the wrong impression that he was “innocent”, but it was maturing. He just looked… _different_ . He was starting to look _older_. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Trying to shake away the uneasy feeling in his stomach, Yuri brushed his hair quickly (and painfully, because he never bothered being careful about the knots) and left the bathroom, duffle bag over his shoulder.

When he walked out to the living room, Otabek was on the couch reading a copy of _Beowulf_. Yuri wrinkled his nose and asked, “Why are you reading that? Isn’t that, like, super boring?”

Otabek looked up at Yuri and shook his head. “I actually like it.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow and laughed, “How?”

Amused, Otabek explains, “It’s an epic ballad about the adventures and life of Beowulf. I think he’s pretty cool as a character and it gives interesting insight of what life was like almost a thousand years ago. In my first year of high school, my English tutor gave me a list of books that I could read if I was interested in more classic English works. _Beowulf_ was on there and the name caught my attention. I asked about it and she gave me her copy.” He held up the book. “When I finished it, I tried to give it back, but she let me keep it.”

Yuri smirked. “Cute.”

Otabek shrugged. “It is.”

Yuri walked to the couch and set his duffle bag down beside it. He sat next to Otabek and let out a heavy sigh. “I think I need to talk.”

Otabek place the bookmark in the page and then closed the book, setting it down on the coffee table. He leaned back and rested his arm on the head of the couch. “About what?”

Yuri frowned. The frustration of doing badly with his skating was so much deeper than people than most people knew, and the only people who actually knew why were Viktor and Yakov. They had been watching over him for years, and he just fucking yelled at them like he was going to chop their heads off.

“I feel guilty,” Yuri started. “Skating is much more to me than just a sport or a form of expression. For a really long time, I wanted to be the best in the sport so I could get a lot of sponsors and a lot of money. That didn’t really start happening until I was in juniors getting a few sponsors. At that point, it turned into my career, and it sounds kind of fucked up to put it that way since I was just a kid, but that’s what it was for me.” He sighed again and closed his eyes. “I grew up poor. My grandfather paid for my skating lessons even though it was a lot of money for us. It was hard because my mother couldn’t work—she was really sick. She retired from show business really early on. Mom was a real prima donna, but you couldn’t tell by the way she looked towards the end. There were days she couldn’t get out of bed. I was just a kid and I was watching my mom fade away right in front of me, but there was nothing I could fucking do.”

Yuri clenched his fists and let out a shaky breath. “When she passed, it was the hardest moment of my life. It hurt just being in my house, but my grandfather was the only person I had. I didn’t have friends and I didn’t think I needed friends because I was skating all the time to get better. Then I got the offer to go to Yakov’s camp and when Yakov saw me…he said that I should come to Saint Petersburg to continue my training. It was the offer of a lifetime. It took my grandfather some time to accept it because I was just a kid, but he was so proud of me and wanted me to go. He told me, ‘This is your future, Yurochka. This is your dream.’” Yuri opened his eyes and his bottom lip trembled. He had only told this story very few times to a grand total of two people. It has been years, and it didn’t get any easier. “So, I left Moscow and came to Saint Petersburg. I was small. I was just a kid and I was lonely as _fuck_ . I can’t even describe how fucking lonely I was, but I didn’t talk about it to anyone because I knew that if I pushed myself hard enough, none of those emotions would matter, anyway. It wasn’t until I was crying in the locker room one day that I _had_ to talk about it with someone.”

“Who was it?” Otabek asked.

Yuri let out a dry laugh. “It was Viktor. He was twenty-two at the time.” He remembered that day so clearly. Yuri was crying so hard in the corner of the locker room after talking to his grandfather on the phone and he felt _miserable_. “He came up to me and started asking me what was wrong. I mean, he’s shit at comforting people, especially when they’re crying. He sort of just stands there awkwardly looking like he wants to help and has no idea how.” Yuri laughed at the memory. “He’s the kind of guy that would say ‘there, there’ while patting your back with a two metre stick so he wouldn’t have to touch you. But...when I told him what was wrong…he really understood. He’s literally the only person that I know who could actually understand my past, probably because his past is kind of worse than mine.”

“But yours is just as valid,” Otabek said.

“I mean, yeah, I know that. Viktor didn’t really know how to comfort me, but he told me his story and that’s when I knew that I wasn’t really that alone.” Yuri looked at Otabek. “Not a lot of people know this, but Viktor is an orphan.” Otabek’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, I know. Like I said, not a lot of people know. He was an orphan at the age of thirteen and he was homeless. He scavenged for himself on the streets for about two months. When he found the ice rink, he started skating there. He had his old pair of skates his parents had given him for Hanukkah, or something like that. He found a way to sneak into the rink and he slept there for two weeks. Oh, also, Viktor found Makkachin behind some box in an alley and took care of her.” Yuri laughed, “And then Yakov found out he had been staying in the locker room with a puppy and Viktor was scared shitless. Instead of sending Viktor to an orphanage, Yakov let Viktor stay with him and Lilia. Viktor said it was because Yakov saw ‘potential’ in him. You know, the same kind that Yakov saw in me.” He pointed at Otabek and said, “Don’t tell Viktor I told you any of that.”

“Never.”

Yuri nodded, satisfied. “Okay. Good.” He cleared his throat and said, “So, after that, I got better and better. Viktor was more like a mentor to me at that point. He was a friend kinda, but more like someone I looked up to a lot and could learn from. His guidance was really important to me, but I don’t think he knows how much.” He pointed a finger at Otabek. “Again, if you tell Viktor any of this shit—“

Otabek chuckled, “I wouldn’t dare, Yura.”

There was a silence that fell between them, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Without a word, Otabek leaned forward and tugged Yuri into a hug. Yuri stiffened and Otabek said, “Are you okay with this?”

After a few moments, Yuri relaxed and nodded, and wrapped his arms around Otabek. “Yeah, this is okay.” Yuri tightened the hug and Otabek returned it.

Otabek sighed. “Thank you for telling me everything.”

“Yeah,” Yuri mumbled against his shirt. “It’s not a big deal.”

Otabek pulled away from the hug and looked at Yuri and softly felt his cheek. Yuri really _really_ hoped that his blush was not obvious. “It _is_ a big deal, at least it is to me.”

“Why?”

Otabek gave him one of the small smiles Yuri loves so much. “Because it means that you trust me.”

Otabek was getting closer and looking at Yuri’s lips and _Oh My God_ friends didn’t do that type of shit, no they did _not_. Otabek paused and just looked at Yuri and it honestly felt like Yuri was going to fucking combust. He had no idea what to do. He couldn’t even move. Otabek was five centimetres away and Yuri couldn’t breathe. All of the air was just sucked straight out of his lungs and he was blushing so fucking hard. Otabek softly caressed Yuri’s cheek with his thumb and he let out a shaky breath. “Yuri…I—“

“I’m tired,” Yuri said loudly and he fucking _hated himself holy shit._ What did he just fucking _do_?

Otabek froze for a moment and then pulled back and Yuri could fucking swear he saw disappointment in his eyes and red on his cheeks, but honestly at this fucking point he could be hallucinating. “Uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll just, uh, get the bed ready for you.”

When Otabek stood up and went to the bedroom, Yuri’s head fell into his hands and he let out a silent scream and he fucking wished the floor would swallow him up. He wished a dragon would just fucking burst into the apartment and burned him to a crisp and then eaten him. Yuri glanced over at the window and wondered if he could just jump out of the window; not open the window and jump out, no—just straight up crash through the window and die. He could not fucking believe _what he just fucking did_.

“The bed is ready,” Otabek said. Yuri looked up, Otabek’s hands were in the pockets of his sweatpants and his face was neutral. Seriously, Yuri was begging for the sweet release of death.

Yuri stood and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.” Yuri walked past him and into the bedroom. “Goodnight.”

Otabek nodded. “Goodnight.”

Fuck. This was so awkward.

When Yuri got into the bed, he pulled the covers over his head and pressed his face against the pillow. He wanted to _scream_. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. He wanted to avoid being awkward with Otabek and he fucked it up. He had an idea of what that would feel like, but now when he was actually experiencing it, it was a lot worse than he imagined.

Yuri tossed and turned in bed and couldn’t sleep. Thoughts kept racing in his head and they wouldn’t _shut up_. He peeked his head out from under the covers and looked at the clock on the bedside table.

22:46

 _Ugh_ , he had been lying there for almost twenty minutes and couldn’t sleep at all. He sat up and looked outside the door where he could see the couch. Yuri bit his lip and his hands were trembling. _Was he really going to do this?_ If he didn’t take a chance now, he’d regret it…

Yuri stood from the bed and walked to the doorway. He took in a deep breath and said, “Hey, Beka.”

Otabek turned over on the couch and looked at him. “Hm?”

“Are you asleep?”

Otabek chuckled, “I don’t think so.”

Yuri tried to organize his thoughts, but instead everything that came out of his mouth was, “Okay, this might sound kind of stupid, but, like…um, would you mind…sorry, this really sounds dumb in my head and it sounds even fucking worse out loud. You know what? It’s fine, it’s…ugh, it’s fine—“

“Yura,” Otabek interrupted flatly. “Just tell me.”

Fuck. “I was wondering if you could just…I don’t feel alright. I can’t sleep and I feel…alone. So, I was just wondering if you could just…with me…”

“You’re asking if I can sleep with you,” Otabek clarified.

Yuri nodded. _God_ , he felt ridiculous. He was like a child that needed comfort from some adult, but this time it was comfort from his best friend that he had a giant embarrassing crush on. It made Yuri feel like he was being annoying and clingy. He hated people like that.

Instead of rejecting his request, Otabek did something that Yuri thought he wouldn’t. Otabek said, “It’s not stupid, Yuri. I can sleep with you.”

The relief that washed over Yuri was unbelievable, but he also felt heat come to his cheeks because, wow, he was going to be sleeping with Otabek.

When Otabek joined him in the bed, they were facing each other and honestly Yuri thought that this day could not be a wilder rollercoaster than it already was. How was this happening all at once? Just a few hours ago he was losing his mind and destroying the emotions of all the people that cared about him and now he was lying in bed across from his best friend who also happens to be the guy he’s kind of in love with and said guy might actually return some of those affections. This could not be real. Yuri was sure that he was just in some weird episode of the _Twilight Zone_ and literally nothing made sense. The older he got, the more he realized that he was just getting himself into stranger and stranger situations and he had no idea how to handle them.

The situation he was in, however, wasn’t strange. It was _bad_ and _horrible_. There was nothing strange about it. It was just painful.

Yuri scooted a bit closer to Otabek and Otabek wordlessly held Yuri caringly. He had never felt so loved in his entire life by someone who wasn’t his mother or grandfather. This was an all-new type of love, something so raw and heated, but also soft and it made his insides melt. Yuri looked at Otabek and quietly said, “Thank you, Beka.”

Otabek’s lips quirked up into a smile and he answered, “You don’t have to thank me, Yura.”

Yuri sighed contently as he closed his eyes and let himself be taken in by the comfort and warmth of Otabek and the bed.

It might’ve been the best sleep he had ever experienced in his life.


End file.
